


The dead, the undead, and everything in between

by This_Just_In



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV), Harley Quinn (Comics), Harry Potter RPF, Suits (US TV), Supernatural RPF, The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Anxiety Disorder, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, I'm Bad At Tagging, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Zombie Apocalypse, Reader-Insert, Running, Zombies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:34:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27538432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/This_Just_In/pseuds/This_Just_In
Summary: Set in a post zombie-appocalyptic world, things aren't that bad. I mean you were either living not that badly, or you weren't living at all—atleast not as a human. Things were always simple and sure, they got a little complicated with the zombies and stuff but then life returned to it's divine simplicity—you were a human or you were a zombie—but what happens when you can't tell them apart anymore?Based on a writing prompt I saw on pinterest.





	1. Chapter 1

The morning dragged along on it's usual celestial cycle;the air was humid, the colours of the sky not reflecting the weather. Some of the morning sun was filtering into the room, the cracks in the walls and windows glowing, giving the dawn—if one could even call it that—an even more magical feeling.  
I can not express in words how beautiful the sky is ( _Not that I lack the vocabulary, mind you, it'll just take more time to observe and describe it—and I'm not sure I have time_ ). There's a wierd feeling of deja vu, like you blinked for a second too long and knew you were going to get hit by a low-hanging branch—yes the one you had spotted earlier but was too busy throwing your hair out of your face to move away. I could see the moving dust particles illuminated by the sunlight. Their pace was wasn't fast, they weren't slow either—like the zombies. You could see them coming from a distance and think that you'll survive them that you could outrun them—but boy, would you be wrong.  
Among all this pleasantness( _it was as good as it was going to get_ ), was an elephant in the room—me. My heart beat rapidly, and my breathing became erratic, an unwelcome change to how placid I felt before. I mean, I had been through worse, but my gut still clenched at the feeling;it was excitement and disappointment all at once, like waking up in the morning and remembering the uneventful happenings of yesterday that had led to this moment—this very moment that you, by all forms of logic were supposed to understand, but didn't. In my case, it was a sudden realisation that this could be my last day.   
I wondered how I got here. Deep down I did know how I had got here, hell I even voted for it! I pondered, persuaded, pushed and pulled with all my might and the influence that I had.  
This moment was my doing. Me waking up this morning with all the possibilities of dying—by what one might descrbe as being caused by one of my peak chaotic nuetral moments—was my doing;it was my decision, a choice I made— _it's better to burn out, than fade away_ , right?


	2. A runner's guide to surviving the zombies behind you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cut scene from you contemplating your probable death to you facing it...and you were running from it, obviously. The question is, when will you turn around and meet it head on as you sure as hell can't keep running forever. You could already count the blisters on your feet, ffs.

No matter how hard your feet hit the ground, or how much time had passed, nothing changed. Except now you had lesser energy and you could hear your heart thumping even in your head, accompanied by a voice at the back of your mind telling you that you should give up and save your breath, that you should just stop right there and hope that by some _miracle_ , you wouldn't be street meat or a zombie by the end of the day. Considering that there wasn't much thought process going on in your mind, the voice was easily getting to you, threatening to throw you off your—tanked—mission.  
Your eyes frantically searched the view in front of you;you knew yourself and you desperately needed something if you weren't going to stop right here and now. The glimmering grey metal—though small—was a stark contrast to the dusty streets and old buildings. You guessed it was a trash can. That, or it was your mind playing tricks on you. To put things in perspective, you had none.  
You trained your eyes on it, willing with every ounce of your being to make it there. You had a checkpoint now _(cheers, mate!)._ You may not be the fastest runner in Albus(you're still not quite clear on why they would even let you lead), but you knew you were good at reaching checkpoints;mostly, that's how you managed to stay alive.  
You let your foot obey it's own pace, knowing you had to do it if you were going to run any longer. Your breathing was heavy, sweat dripping down your face. You were trying your hardest not fail. You told yourself it wasn't your fault, that you were doomed from the start. But you couldn't stop your mind from thinking about the ones who weren't like you, the ones who couldn't keep running, the ones who were not as lucky. Maybe Lav got backed into a dead-end five minutes into this impossible task, maybe Rosa couldn't cut a corner, maybe Jack couldn't...fuck it, there's a lot of things that could've gone wrong with Jack;he was, afterall, Jack—the mommy's boy who stepped up when someone needed to but would almost always create more trouble than what was already there. For all you knew, you could be the only one alive. You could be the only one who's going to make it back or maybe no one makes it back at all or someone does and it's just not you. You didn't think further than that, as you had more pressing matters to worry about;more pressing matters as in how you were low-key dragging one foot now, the sole of your shoe grating softly against the gravel.   
However, you knew how to roll with the punches;your lack of energy being the newest metaphorical punch. You didn't want to think about what would happen now. You just didn't. Didn't want to. Don't think about it, nuh-uh. In a last ditch attempt to give everything over to fate, you struggled to spin around on your heels to face the zombies. Nope, they weren't stopping and your only weapon was your constant running. Actually, you did have another weapon. It would have come in handy, if not for the broken wooden handle which isn't going to be magically fixed by now. Giving another chance for fate to swoop you off your feet in the least expected moment, you check your holster at the side of your waist. No, ofcourse not. Realising you wasted precious time and energy doing all the fate-do-your-thing-bullshit, you spun on your heels again, facing the direction you were previously running, and did just what you had been doing earlier;you ran. Actually, it was more of a cross between jogging and fast-walking, dangerously leaning on the fast-walking side.  
Your eyes were blank as a fitting memory made it's way to the front of your mind, your senses feeling as if you were really there now, and not running away from a mob.  
_Since you all are NEW here, let me tell you somethong about EXHAUSTION..._  
Her voice was loud, grating, almost on the verge of unbearable.  
... _right, you're feeing that, YEAH? A MINUTE from then, you would be UNABLE to RUN anymore..._  
You were watching—or rather listening—wide eyed, the initial irritation you had felt towards the woman—and her voice—long gone.   
... _feel your eyes CLOSING? Well, DON'T. STOP. Cause if you're ALIVE till here, then it means you HAVEN'T till then and you ARE NOT GOING TO STOP NOW._  
'Wow', you remember thinking but you don't remember what she looked like. Not even a single detail except that she was a woman—and that voice. You'd never forget it; you knew that now.  
You could hear the mic's feedback ringing in your ears as if it was trapped, not able escape...  
You fought to keep your legs going, you were slipping— _clearly_ —and it's not like you had much else to do anyway. Even in your cuckoo state, you could recognise your checkpoint which was real and was indeed a trash can _(yay!),_ which means that you can finally rest.  
You let your body slump to the ground and you must have been walking for a while now as you heard the noise—their noise—much closer to you than you had expected, but atleast you had some time.  
You were slouched against a wall, your head hanging, and it felt like your body was on fire. You were sat on the ground, your holster in a comfortable position that wasn't digging into you. One of your leg was stretched out while the other was bent and touching the groung with only the heel. You could still hear the tell-tale din which heralded the mob. That was it for you. You gave up trying to keep yourself in the present, taking refugee deep inside your mind instead. You were a flotsam drifting in your consciousness and you were never going back to land again. The only part of you that would not drown is the feral part, the part which is the sole component of what everyone these days calls a zombie.

... _starting to call them the MOB...vicious ZOMBIES all packed together...NEVER STRAYING from the pack..._  
You couldn't remember exactly what you were like back then.  
... _NEVER...NEVER STRAYING from..._  
You were into tv shows weren't you? And some actors, maybe.(maybe?)  
What did you do all day?  
... _doesn't matter where the mob is from, they NEVER SEPARATE...WHAT do we..._  
You weren't even that affected too. How could you? You had a bubble around you and people to make sure it doesn't break.  
... _are not doing anything...checking...results are showing..._  
I would say this was the calm before the storm, the steady line before the growing curve.  
_...they just DON'T ATTACK ALONE...STRONG..._  
Understanding was out of the picture, it was total mayhem now.  
... _why are they SLOW?...can hear them coming_...  
There wasn't enough of anything then. You grew a lot during those times.  
... _STAY SAFE...stay inside...Please remain calm...survivors claim_...  
It went from this,  
.... _WHAT HAPPENED...everything's GONE_...  
to this,  
... _Dormant...wiped out..._  
and as a final call, this...  
. _..if you can HEAR us...PLEASE...last HOPE._..#  
Your eyes remained closed while you awaited your end. Your head was spinning and you couldn't help but scrunch your face at the bright sunlight;you had hoped for some rain. You chuckled dryly at your silliness, face and your whole upper body hurting from your movements. You were going to die;surely, that should cause you to think about more important things and not about it not raining right now. You chortled which turned into dry coughing.  
Man, your priorities were something else. Or it was just your mind going crazy—finally.  
You felt really hot like the temperature went up a couple of degrees. "Huh,"you thought, "strange."  
You felt the heat wavering like it was coming from something going off repeatedly rather than the sun. Fuck the heat, you couldn't care less and you cared even less to the voice deep inside you, telling you to open your eyes. But you didn't. You didn't and it would've ended up being your undoing if not for the sudden wetness across your face.   
Rain? No, it was too hot for that and as far as you could tell, it was just your face. You were pretty sure it wasn't tears either.   
Irritated, you scrunched up your face and tried to figure out where the water was coming from without opening your eyes too much.  
You gave up quite quickly, proceeding to shield your eyes from the water, followed by wide glances to the sky and the roof above you.  
You initially thought it was just the sun, but you could make out two figures on the roof, gesturing wildly while holding something with their arms. What they were gesturing, you couldn't tell, what the hell they had in their hands, you couldn't tell either, but you were sure they knew that they had your attention—you were gawking at them for chuck's sake— and yet, the water didn't stop pouring. Besides everything, that was just plain rude.  
The water cooled you off and you could maybe think straight now. You started to list off the facts which you knew in your head while feeling like Enola Holmes talking to the camera.

First, you were going to die in a matter of few minutes at the hands—strike that, the jaws—of zombies which you had been running from until the point of total exhaustion and then, you were here, chilling for the last few minutes of your life as a human.   
Second, everything had not gone according to plan but you did follow it through exactly like you had agreed to at Albus.  
Third, you were positive that the people in the roof of the building behind you were really just that—people.  
Fourth, yeah, you were going to die, unless you look outside of Albus's glorius plan which you supported.  
Processing…processing…and plan modified.  
Course of action: Up, up and above.


End file.
